


the stars melt like sugar

by celestialfics



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Ice Skating, M/M, silly boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:21:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9200927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialfics/pseuds/celestialfics
Summary: Ice skating is harder than it looks, and Tsukishima learns so the hard way.(Tadashi can’t help but think it’s kind of cute.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Niansue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niansue/gifts).



> this was written as part of the tsukyam gift exchange! i really had a lot of fun writing this and i hope that you will enjoy !!  
> the title is from blaise cendrars’s poem, “amolli”
> 
> also i had to post this again since the original posting date was wrong (since i'd had it saved as a draft)  
> sorry for any inconvenience !!

“Tsukki, Tsukki,” Tadashi singsongs, draping himself over Tsukishima’s lap as they sit together on his bed. His stomach presses into Tsukishima’s thighs. “Let’s go ice skating,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Hm,” Tsukishima hums, seemingly contemplating. His eyes flicker away from the screen of his phone and down to Tadashi in his lap. “I’m almost compelled to say yes just because this is the third time you’ve suggested it. But, no.” He flicks Tadashi’s flyaway hairs for emphasis.

Tadashi scowls in response, defensively cupping a hand over the hairs and flipping over on Tsukishima’s lap, scooting back a touch so that he sits next to Tsukishima with his thighs resting over the other boy’s. “Why not?” he asks, reaching up with his free hand and poking the tip of Tsukishima’s nose.

Tsukishima swats Tadashi’s hand away. “Because.”

“That’s not an answer, Tsukki,” states Tadashi, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. “Ice skating is fun! I don’t get why you don’t want to go. Plus, we can only go in the winter. Time is running out!”

“I don’t want to,” Tsukishima stubbornly insists (he’s nothing if not stubborn, Tadashi thinks) and continues after setting his phone down on the bed beside them, “There are better things to do.”

“Like what?” Tadashi prompts, raising an eyebrow. He presses both of his hands into the bed next to him and leans back, spreading out his fingers against the dark blue quilt.

“Hmm,” Tsukishima hums, lifting a hand to adjust his glasses before he sets the hand down on Tadashi’s thigh. He just barely rubs his thumb back and forth across the seam of Tadashi’s jeans against his inner thigh. The faint touch causes Tadashi’s thoughts to fly… _elsewhere_.

“You play dirty,” Tadashi whines, and Tsukishima lets out a soft laugh before he ducks his head down to meet with Tadashi’s lips.

Tsukki may have won this time, Tadashi thinks bitterly (but it’s not _that_ bitter—it _can’t_ be when Tsukishima’s lips are moving lazily across Tadashi’s left collarbone) but he won’t win next time. _Really_.

* * *

 

The days are passing, though, and the temperature will start rising again sooner than later. The snow and the ice as they know it now will melt back into spring, and any opportunity for ice skating that had once presented itself will go along with them.

And so, Tadashi insists.

“Tsukki,” he says as they ready themselves for their walk home from practice, “you know what I haven’t said for awhile?” (It’s been three days.)

Tsukishima’s eyes flit over to him. “I won’t go ice skating,” he states.

Tadashi’s shoulders droop, and he juts out his bottom lip. “Tsu _kki_ , you didn’t even let me say it.”

“I knew what you were going to say, though.” Tsukishima raises an eyebrow, fitting one of his gloves onto one of his hands. The chatter of the other volleyball players in the clubroom diminishes as more of them leave and proceed home.

“Of course you did,” says Tadashi with only fake bitterness, “because you’re Tsukki. But you should at least be polite and let me say it before you reject me.”

“I’m not rejecting _you_ ,” Tsukishima clarifies, his gaze soft but unyielding. (His gaze has always been sort of intense, but through the years Tadashi has learned to bask in it rather than let it burn his skin.) “I’m rejecting the ice skating. Ask me to go somewhere else and I’ll agree.”

Tadashi lets out a huff, wrapping his scarf haphazardly around his neck. He turns so his back faces Tsukishima, so that Tsukishima can tie the scarf into a knot at the base of Tadashi’s neck. It’s too much effort to struggle and awkwardly tie it himself, so it’s only natural that he gives the job to his boyfriend.

Kageyama’s the last person in the clubroom besides them, and Hinata waits for him outside, standing idly besides his bike. Tsukishima isn’t looking, but Kageyama gives them a small wave in farewell as he opens the clubroom door. Maybe the wave was only directed at Tadashi in the first place, but either way, Tadashi waves back on both his and Tsukishima’s behalf.

“I’ll just ask you until you give in,” Tadashi states after a few ticks of silence, as Tsukishima stuffs his gloved hands into his pockets. “because you _always_ give in eventually, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima doesn’t deny this. “Only when it comes to you.”

Tadashi lets out a soft laugh at the response, hooking his arm with Tsukishima’s. He leads Tsukishima to the door, but hesitates before he opens it.

“You’re a softie, you know,” Tadashi says, “A big ol’ softie.”

Tsukishima denies this. “I’m not.”

“Oh, you _definitely_ are,” Tadashi insists, and Tsukishima may deny it but there’s a grin settled upon his lips. “Trust me, I’d know.”

And even as he shakes his head in disagreement—or fondness? Tadashi leans more towards fondness—the grin persists.

“I still won’t go skating.”

Tadashi lets out a groan as he pushes the clubroom door open, stepping foot outside into the cold December air. His breath puffs out into clouds in front of him.

He’ll win, _eventually_.

* * *

 

It surely takes persistence, but Tadashi’s never been one to give up.

It’s simple; he works hard. If he doesn’t get to play in matches, he keeps practicing. If he’s struggling in a class, he keeps studying. If Tsukishima won’t go ice skating with him, he keeps asking. It’s all one in the same, really.

This time, Tadashi really thinks he’ll succeed.

Tsukishima’s sleepy, and he’s always more forgiving when he’s sleepy. (He likes to cuddle more when he’s sleepy, too. It’s a blessing and a curse, the way he somehow finds a way to sling an arm around Tadashi no matter how they lie. But Tadashi forgives him, only because he also endures Tadashi’s drool.)

And just now, they’re sat propped up against the headboard of Tsukishima’s bed, his laptop resting on one of each of their thighs. _Jaws_ plays on the screen, just because it always makes Tsukishima laugh. But Tsukishima really is tired, and Tadashi can tell because—one, his head has fallen onto Tadashi’s shoulder, and two, the most stupid part has just played and he only snorted.

So, his scheme must commence now, before Tsukishima actually falls asleep.

“Hey, Tsukki,” Tadashi says, reaching slightly forward to pause the movie.

“Mm?” Tsukishima hums, and Tadashi can feel it through Tsukishima’s cheek that presses against his shoulder. Tsukishima golden eyes look up at him, and Tadashi makes a mental note to slip Tsukishima’s glasses off his face for him after they’re done talking if he himself doesn’t do so first.

“We should go on a date,” Tadashi suggests innocently.

“A date?” Tsukishima responds, bleary, “What are we doing right now?”

“This isn’t a _date_ , Tsukki.” A giggle bubbles out from Tadashi’s chest. “We’re hanging out.”

“Hm,” Tsukishima ponders, not exactly satisfied by the response. “Hanging out as boyfriends,” he adds.

“Yeah, sure, Tsukki.” Tadashi smiles a little and shakes his head fondly. Sleepy Tsukki surely is a sight he’s blessed to see. “But really. We should go on a date.”

“Okay,” agrees Tsukishima, his words slightly distorted and his glasses slightly askew because of the way his cheek squishes against Tadashi’s shoulder. “Where to?”

“Will you let me pick?” Tadashi’s plan proceeds swimmingly.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Anywhere?”

“Mm, sure.”

“You promise?”

Tsukishima hesitates, and Tadashi watches as his scheme crumbles before his eyes. Tsukishima shifts to sit up, lifting his head from Tadashi’s shoulder. He blinks once, twice, and adjusts his glasses. “You’re evil,” he finally says.

Tadashi lets out laugh, “I really almost got you.”

“You’re dangerous,” Tsukishima continues, sliding his glasses from his face and reaching over Tadashi’s chest to set them on the nightstand. As he reaches, his face comes unsparingly close to Tadashi’s. “You know all my weaknesses,” he whispers against the shell of Tadashi’s ear.

“Shh,” Tadashi responds, placing a chaste kiss to Tsukishima’s cheek and gently pushing him away, so that he can shut the laptop that sits on their laps and lean over to set it on the floor. After the light that’d been emitted from the laptop is taken away, the room is pitch black save for the sliver of light from a street lamp seeping in through the window. “I won’t use them against you.”

“You just did,” Tsukishima deadpans, and then yawns.

Tadashi pulls the blanket over them, up to their chests. “You know, Tsukki, there’s bad peer pressure, and there’s good peer pressure. This is the good stuff.”

“It really sounds like you’re offering me drugs,” Tsukishima says, turning to lie on his side, facing Tadashi.

“You’re probably more inclined to say yes to drugs than to ice skating.” Tadashi complains and follows Tsukishima’s example, shifting to lie on his side and face the other boy.

“I’m really not sure. Ask me again in the morning.”

Tadashi can’t wipe the smile from his face, so he doesn’t try. One of Tsukishima’s arms slings around Tadashi’s waist, which he’d been waiting for.

Tsukishima falls asleep first, but that’s okay, because sleeping Tsukki is just as good as sleepy Tsukki. (Every Tsukki is just as good as every other Tsukki, in Tadashi’s book, except for the Tsukki that doesn’t think he’s good enough. But Tadashi’s working on that Tsukki. He’ll get there.)

And Tadashi can’t be angry that he lost again this time, even when he’d been sure he’d win. He can’t be angry just because he’s so fond of Tsukishima, of all of him, even the part that doesn’t want to ice skate.

Though he’s sure he’ll win soon. Tsukishima’s resolve is breaking as it does; he can tell.

* * *

 

“Hey,” Tsukishima says during lunch, his voice low and almost drowned out by all the other students’ chatter around them. Tadashi leans in, and never in a hundred years would he anticipate the words that come out of Tsukishima’s mouth next. “I think we should go ice skating.”

Tadashi stares at him, his mouth dropping open. He actually drops his chopsticks, too, and they clatter quietly against his lunch box.

When he regains his bearings, Tadashi picks up his chopsticks and points them accusingly at Tsukishima. “What’s caused this shift of interest?”

Tsukishima reaches forward and pushes Tadashi’s chopsticks away with his hand. “You really want to go. So I thought about it, and I figured that it won’t be that bad.”

“Hm,” Tadashi hums, setting his chopsticks down on top of his rice. He proceeds to intertwine his fingers and rest his chin on them, his elbows pressing against the table. “So, you’re agreeing just to be a good boyfriend?” he ponders.

“Yeah,” Tsukishima replies with no hesitation.

Tadashi snorts, but still takes Tsukishima up on the offer.

He certainly hadn’t expected to win by default, but a win’s a win, and Tadashi will take what he can get.

* * *

 

It’s an afterthought to text Tsukishima as he walks the short distance over to his house so that they can walk to the train together.

 _‘Dont forget long socks tsukki!!!’_ he types, ‘ _I’ll be there in five. it’s cold out too so dont forget mittens!!’_ He adds a purple heart and a star onto the end of the message for good measure.

He shoves his phone into his pocket along with his hand after he hits send; he knows Tsukishima won’t respond to the message even though he’ll see it. And Tadashi’s at Tsukishima’s door before long anyway, rapping his knuckles on the wood.

Tsukishima opens the door, all tucked into a coat and wrapped in a scarf. _Cute_ , Tadashi thinks, and he feels his cheeks heat up.

“My socks go halfway up my shin,” Tsukishima says in lieu of a greeting, and Tadashi smiles. “And here—” he sticks out his hands, “—are my gloves.”

Tadashi reaches for one of Tsukishima’s outstretched hands, intertwining their fingers and letting their arms swing down in between them.

It’ll be fun, but even if it’s not, Tsukishima will be pleased to say ’I told you so,’ Tadashi’s sure. (So, really, it’s a win-win situation.)

* * *

 

The rink is outdoors, and Tadashi thanks butterflies everywhere for not causing a disturbance in the weather; the sky is clear and the stars shine brightly over the gleaming ice. Who knows how long it would have been until Tadashi could convince Tsukishima to reschedule if the weather had turned sour—Tsukishima would insist that, even though he doesn’t believe in such things, the bad weather was an omen that they shouldn’t go. And so, Tadashi thanks the butterflies.

After stopping at a booth adjacent to the rink to rent skates, the boys take a seat on a bench nearby to put them on. Tadashi finishes lacing up before Tsukishima, but sits patiently and waits for him to finish before they stand together. Tadashi just hardly catches Tsukishima cautious look at the ice, so hardly so that he wonders if he’d just imagined it.

He learns roughly twenty seconds later that he hadn’t.

Tadashi glides forward a few paces, his skates producing a sharp slicing sound against the ice, but he turns around as he realizes Tsukishima isn’t behind him. The other boy still stands off to the side of the rink, wringing his gloved hands together in front of him. Tadashi thinks he sees his life flash before his eyes, and suddenly everything makes sense.

“Tsukki!” he exclaims as he skates quickly back towards his boyfriend, “You should have told me you can’t skate, you—you dummy!”

Tsukishima buries his face into his scarf, the purple fabric shielding the embarrassed expression that Tadashi knows is there. “I can skate,” he says against the scarf, with little more than no confidence.

“What was that?” questions Tadashi teasingly, even though he’d heard quite clearly. “You _can’t_ skate? I’m glad to hear you admit it, Tsukki.”

“I… can,” Tsukishima insists, and his eyes flicker down to the ice, which he hasn’t yet set a skate upon.

“So stubborn, Tsukki…” Tadashi trails, “Show me, then.”

As Tsukishima stares dubiously at the ice, his hand clutching the railing, Tadashi thinks that Tsukishima really needs to get rid of his ‘cool’ complex. Surely, if he didn’t have such a fixation on being cool he would’ve just admitted long ago that ice skating isn’t something he can do as easily and gracefully as he does nearly everything else, and he wouldn’t be in this situation.

In one swift movement, however—the moment of truth—Tsukishima steps onto the ice and slides forward about a meter. He wobbles, and before Tadashi even has time to call Tsukishima out for lying, the liar is clutching onto Tadashi’s arm for dear life.

“Tsukki,” Tadashi scolds. Tsukishima bends over slightly as he hangs onto Tadashi’s arm, so their faces are at the same height.

“Okay,” Tsukishima admits, “I can’t ice skate.” He tenses when one of his skates slips slightly forward, and his death grip on Tadashi’s arm somehow gets tighter.

“Obviously,” Tadashi replies, wincing at the tight grip. Upon noticing the wince, Tsukishima loosens his grip, but all is for naught when he re-clutches almost immediately afterwards. “Let’s go to the railing,” Tadashi suggests, patting Tsukishima’s arm with his open hand, prompting him to let go.

Tsukishima stares at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Tadashi assures, “I won’t let you fall.”

The grip relaxes until Tsukishima completely lets go, and Tadashi takes the chance to loop his arm around Tsukishima’s lower back, for support.

“Okay,” he says, turning back to the railing which is hardly over a meter away. He pulls Tsukishima forward a pace, and lets go of him once they reach the railing. Tsukishima’s hands grasp at the railing, and his cheeks light up pink.

Tadashi just blinks at him, waiting for him to speak.

He does make an attempt to justify himself: “I thought that since so many people can skate, it wouldn’t be too hard.”

“Well—” Tadashi is interrupted.

“I was wrong. Obviously.”

Suddenly, the image of Tsukishima using a walker on the ice flashes before Tadashi’s eyes. A giggle bubbles out from his chest, and Tsukishima stares at him. He proceeds to laugh harder.

“Don’t laugh,” Tsukishima says.

Tadashi hides his mouth behind his hands, but as he continues to laugh despite Tsukishima’s plea, his center of balance shifts and he smacks down onto his bottom. His laughter stops for a split second as Tsukishima stares at him with wide eyes, but after the moment of realization, Tadashi explodes into louder giggles than the last. Tsukishima can’t help himself from laughing, too.

“There, Tsukki,” Tadashi speaks as he stands, breathless and dusting the ice remnants off his butt with his hands. His cheeks are rosy from the laughter and the embarrassment. “I fell first, so you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“It’d still be embarrassing,” replies Tsukishima, signs of laughter lingering on his face—Tadashi _loves_ when Tsukishima’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs or smiles, namely because it really doesn’t happen often. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You _appreciate_ me falling on my ass,” Tadashi retorts, grumbling.

“Maybe so.”

Tadashi just glares at him and skates a few paces away, before sticking out his tongue.

* * *

 

They end up sticking to the railing, Tsukishima making his way around the rink without ever taking his hands off of it. Tadashi strays, skating ahead of Tsukishima and turning around to skate back, mostly taunting him. It’s just that it’s not everyday that Tadashi’s better than Tsukishima at something, so he really has to fight the urge to milk it _too_ much. But, Tadashi will admit (though not aloud) that Tsukishima looks really, _really_ cute as he moves his skates just tiny bits at a time, his right hand clutching at the railing and his left arm sticking out to help him balance.

But suddenly, Tsukishima swings around and grabs the rail with both of his hands, stopping to watch as Tadashi drifts lazily beside him.

“Tell me how to do it,” he commands, and Tadashi turns and reaches for the railing to stop his momentum.

“I don’t…” Tadashi trails, furrowing his eyebrows and scratching at his cheek with his pointer finger. “I guess I kind of just… do it? That’s no help.”

“It’s not,” Tsukishima confirms, taking a hand off of the rail to push up his glasses.

“You have to practice balancing,” Tadashi states, stretching his arms out on either side of him, “like this.”

Tsukishima swallows thickly, and Tadashi almost rolls his eyes.

“You’re not gonna look cool, Tsukki, but you’ll have to live with it,” he says, and his smile nears devilish. He wishes he could take a picture of the returned look on Tsukishima’s face. “But I won’t tell anyone how dumb you look, I promise.” (Except, in his head, Tadashi replaces ‘dumb’ with ‘cute.’)

Tsukishima glares at Tadashi over his glasses, but pushes away from the wall and outstretches his arms. He wobbles.

“Oh, and bend your knees,” Tadashi suggests, to which Tsukishima does almost immediately after he’s told. He slides over the ice at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Tadashi skates ahead of Tsukishima a touch, thinking about how he’s moving as he does, before giving another suggestion: “When you lift up your foot, you have to push the blade out to the side and transfer your weight to your other foot.”

Tsukishima looks down at his feet, which are spread too far apart. “I can’t lift up my foot,” he says.

Tadashi snorts, skating back towards him. “Okay. Hold onto me.” He offers his forearm, and Tsukishima uses it as a crutch as he lifts up one of his feet and brings it closer to the other. “There you go,” Tadashi says with a smile as Tsukishima lets go. “Now try it.”

It doesn’t go so well. As Tsukishima lifts his right foot, his teeters on his left and slams his right back down onto the ice. In doing so, he loses his balance and reaches for Tadashi, snatching him by the sleeve of his coat. Instead of helping to balance Tsukishima, Tadashi is dragged down alongside Tsukishima, and they both fall backwards onto their butts.

“Tsukki!” Tadashi exclaims, and some of the people around them stare. Tsukishima blushes again into his scarf.

Grimacing as he stands, Tadashi lets out a disbelieving kind of laugh. “You fell on your first step, Tsukki. The _first_ one.”

Tsukishima doesn’t choose to respond; instead, he presses his palms flat against the ice and attempts to stand. This doesn’t work, he learns quickly, his feet sliding out from under him and landing him on his ass once again. Tadashi muffles a giggle behind his hands.

“One foot at a time, Tsukki,” says Tadashi, “Here.”

He offers an outstretched hand. Tsukishima looks up at him, seemingly pondering whether or not to accept the help, considering how embarrassed he already is. He does anyway, clasping Tadashi’s hand in his own and stepping forward with one foot. Tadashi helps to drag him upright, and doesn’t let go of his hand even when they’re both standing. “Have you ever been skating before, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima’s looking longingly at the wall as Tadashi asks, but at the question he redirects his gaze. “I think Nii-chan brought me once when I was really little,” he recalls.

“Did you have to use one of those walkers?” Tadashi glances over to a child nearby that leans on a walker.

He hesitates to answer, which Tadashi takes as a ‘yes.’

“Ah, Tsukki, so cute…” Tadashi’s grin is small, almost tentative. “Maybe you could—”

“I am not using one,” he deadpans.

“Let me finish,” Tadashi commands, “You could use me as a walker.” He pats his hands on his shoulders, inviting Tsukishima to rest his own hands there.

Tsukishima blinks at him. (Tadashi can practically see the gears turning in his head. He’s definitely weighing his options—which is more embarrassing, sticking his arms out on either side of him or holding onto his boyfriend’s shoulders?)

Tadashi smiles as he feels the weight of Tsukishima’s hands upon his shoulders.

“Now, maybe we can pick up the pace,” Tadashi suggests, to which Tsukishima’s grip tightens.

“Absolutely not.”

Tadashi pouts, though Tsukishima can’t see it from behind.

They’re still stationary, and Tadashi figures he’ll have to make the first move or else they’ll never go anywhere. (As he thinks about this for a second longer, he realizes a lot of things are like that with Tsukishima.) So, he lifts up a foot and propels himself forward, his boyfriend clinging onto his shoulders.

He glides forward some slow paces while Tsukishima focuses on keeping his blades straight and himself upright. His grip on Tadashi’s shoulders tightens and loosens as if attuned to a certain pattern.

“Do you think you’re—”

Tadashi’s statement hangs in the air unfinished as one of Tsukishima’s skates quickly slides forward and lands Tsukishima on his rear-end once again. (He’d been courteous enough to let go of Tadashi this time, however.)

And really, it is just Tsukishima’s luck that he’d fall just as a child who looks to be about six or seven—though Tadashi can’t be sure; he’s always been bad with guessing ages—skates gracefully past, hiding her snickering face behind her hands.

Tsukishima’s embarrassment is blatant as he makes no attempt to stand up from where he’d landed on the ice, so Tadashi offers him a considerate smile and an open hand. He takes the hand and hauls himself back up with Tadashi’s help, but his face really is nearing the red shade of a tomato, so Tadashi kind of feels bad.

“I think we’ve been here long enough, now,” Tsukishima says in lieu of a response to the actions of the child. He dusts off his back with a (flushed) scowl.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Tsukki,” Tadashi consoles, placing what’s meant to be a comforting hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder. “It was just a little kid. Don’t let it get to you.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Tsukishima lies, but as Tadashi looks at him, he won’t look back.

“You are, too,” Tadashi says, shaking his head fondly and moving his hand from Tsukishima’s shoulder to help him get some of the ice remnants off of his jacket and pants.

“I’m not embarrassed,” Tsukishima repeats, and he very obviously looks towards the rink exit.

“Okay, Tsukki, we can leave. Do you want to get some food?”

Tadashi doesn’t get an answer, because apparently, in his haste to leave, Tsukishima forgets that he, in fact, cannot ice skate. And so, as he attempts to stride for the exit, he slips and nearly falls—he would have surely fallen if Tadashi weren’t there to keep him upright and sturdy.

But they do make it to the exit eventually, and Tsukishima lets out a sigh of relief as he presses his skate against the ground outside of the rink. He proceeds to waddle over to the nearest bench, Tadashi following close behind.

Tadashi watches as Tsukishima unties his skates, and he frowns.

“Did you really think it was that awful, Tsukki?” Tadashi asks, implying but not wanting to outrightly admit that he feels bad for insisting that they do this together.

Tsukishima pauses in untying his skate to look at his boyfriend. “I… would go again, with you,” he says, and Tadashi’s jaw drops.

He doesn’t elaborate, just returns his attention to his skate. Tadashi blinks once, twice. He supposes it does make sense. He flashes back to something Yachi had told him that Hinata had said to her awhile ago at that Tokyo training camp, when Tsukishima had been worrying Tadashi as well as… getting on his nerves, but he digresses. Hinata had pointed out that Tsukishima would always do the cooler thing, and the cooler thing in that situation was obviously being good at volleyball. And so, Tadashi supposes, the cooler thing here, versus being able to ice skate and not, is without a doubt, being able to skate. Tsukishima will endure the embarrassment so that, in the long run, he won’t look like an idiot.

“So very _Tsukki_ ,” Tadashi mumbles under his breath, a tender smile spreading across his face. Tsukishima looks curiously at him, not having caught what he’d said, but Tadashi shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he says.

 _It’s nothing_ , he doesn’t mean. To be _Tsukki_ is surely something unique, and Tadashi loves it from the depths of his heart.

He wonders, for a moment, if Tsukishima will keep his word and if they’ll ever skate together again. He trusts that they will as he finally moves to untie his skates, Tsukishima sitting patiently beside him, his ice skates in his lap and his head tilted up towards the night sky as he waits.

Tadashi admires him for a second, admires the way the lights illuminating the rink also illuminate his blond curls, admires the curve of his neck and jaw, admires that he’s so very Tsukki. He’d really not rather this be anyone else.

And so, with his heart feeling like it’s about to burst, Tadashi presses a kiss to Tsukishima’s cheek and stands from the bench, walking back towards the skate rental booth. Tsukishima follows behind.

(Tadashi didn’t have to get Tsukishima to go ice skating to win, he realizes; he’d already won just by having him around. But the ice skating surely was a plus.)  

**Author's Note:**

> [here's the wonderful art](http://niansue.tumblr.com/post/155718031891/some-sketches-i-drew-based-from-the) that niansue made for this fic!! it was a pleasure to write for them and i'm so glad that they enjoyed the fic enough to want to draw parts of it as well :')


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